Her Own Debt to Repay
by BlackLagoon01
Summary: The doors to the Third Music Room swing open to welcome just about anybody... but it was those doors that condemned Haruhi to her ultimate fate. Rated T for brief mention of alcohol, mild violence, and semi-dark themes
1. We Begin at the End

(Hopefully this works! If you saw the other document, I'm _really_ sorry about all the formatting. I'm new to this site, but I'm pretty sure I've figured it out now. *fingers crossed* Thank you, _thank you_ for bringing that to my attention.)

The hall is dizzyingly long and wide. Or perhaps it is only long and wide, but the dizziness was already there. Either way, this hallway is much preferable to the library. The constant chatter of the other students had been too loud for Haruhi to bear. Her head had already felt odd at that point, so the cacophony of voices had not helped her concentration.

So she had left, and now finds herself in this dizzyingly long and wide hallway. She believes she is in the music wing of the academy, but her foggy mind has destroyed all sense of direction. She lurches onward in search of a vacant room where she might finally study in peace.

The first and second music rooms are occupied by other clubs, she knows, but she has never heard of a club that meets regularly in the third one. She sees the sign marking the door just up ahead.

The fogginess and confusion in her head intensifies. She works through it, though, and makes her way over to the double doors. She grasps the handles and pulls, but they don't budge. She hears some sort of clamor behind the door, and footsteps approaching the other side. She pulls again, harder, and the doors give way. However, she loses her footing and falls backwards. The last things she sees are the worried faces of two redheaded boys; she recognizes them as her classmates, Hikaru and Kaoru. The last thing she smells is the overwhelmingly sweet scent of strawberries and cake. The last thing she tastes is the blood from her own tongue which is now locked between her teeth. The last thing she feels is excruciating pain in the back of her head, in her chest, in her back... then everything, _everything_ goes black.

 _Hikaru and Kaoru stood over the unconscious body in somewhat of a shocked silence. They vaguely recognized him as their classmate, Haruhi Fujioka. He was a quiet student, and they had never really made an effort to talk to him. So why..._

 _To interrupt their shared thoughts, Tamaki came barreling past. He knelt beside Haruhi and gently slapped his face a bit._

 _"Excuse me... hey! Wake up!"_

 _But Haruhi did not wake up._

 _"What's wrong? Are you sick?"_

 _Kyoya puts a hand on Tamaki's shoulder. "Do you know this person?"_

 _"No..."_

 _Kaoru clears his throat. "He's in our class. His name's Haruhi."_

 _Tamaki looks thoughtful for a moment. "Haruhi... wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!"_

 _Kyoya pushes him aside and examines Haruhi for a moment. He looks closely at his chest, which neither rose nor fell. "He's not breathing," he said in a matter-of-fact tone._

 _Honey nearly fell off of Mori's shoulders, which he had been using as a vantage point. "We have to call the poli- no, the hospital! We have to call the hospital!"_

 _"Haruhi!" Tamaki pushes Kyoya aside and takes Haruhi into his arms. "You're going to be okay. I promise, just..." Tamaki places Haruhi back onto the ground and brushes a lock of blond hair out of his own eyes, threatening to spill tears... real tears, mind you, not the artificial ones that he carries around in his blazer pocket. He lowers his face until it is just inches away from Haruhi's and begins the mouth-to-mouth procedure._

 _Hikaru grabs the mouthpiece of the telephone kept in the room and quickly dials 9-1-1. "Hello... Yes, our classmate is unconscious. She fell... she's not breathing. Ouran Academy. Through the main entrance, make a left, second hallway to the right, third door on the left. Hikaru Hitachiin. Haruhi... uhh..."_

 _Kaoru mouths the word "Fujioka."_

 _"Fujioka."_

 _In only five minutes, Kaoru sees an ambulance pull up to the front entrance. It takes two minutes for the paramedics to find the third music room. In four minutes, the stretcher carrying Haruhi's prone body is carted away in the back of an ambulance. Five minutes later, he is in the emergency room with six boys anxiously trying to follow. However, they cannot._

 _Irregardless of how fast all of this happens, everybody, the doctors, the Host Club, Haruhi's own distraught father, fears that it is too late._

 _And it_ is _too late. For, you see..._

Haruhi is gone. Nobody, including herself, is completely sure of where she (or he, depending on which _nobody_ we're talking about) is. Whether she is in the land of the living, any form of afterlife, or someplace in between, is the ultimate question. But Haruhi is somewhere. Let us leave her there for now, Let us leave the Host Club and Haruhi's father in that sterile waiting room, and let us leave the third music room in the same disheveled state in which the host club left it.


	2. Somewhere Close

Light. There is light here, Haruhi notices, but that is all. There is a blinding white light that hurts her eyes. She turns away from the light, and there, for some reason, she sees the face of her father. His lipstick-slathered mouth is pulled into a thin line, and his eyes hold a pain that she hadn't seen since her mother passed. But why?

She turns around to look back into that light. There are now rose petals swirling before her, illuminated and dancing in said ethereal light. She wonders what they mean.

She takes a step forward and in a moment the light fades.

 _Somewhere, there is a hospital waiting room. It smells of antiseptic and of blank, pale faces. It smells of fear and of anxiety, but also of hope. It smells of hearts broken, but also of hearts mended. A single man sits in this room, wondering which of the fates belongs to his heart. He feels rotten. He had received a call earlier this afternoon saying that a certain Haruhi Fujioka had been admitted to the E.R and that he was needed to fill out the necessary paperwork. Now, he sits in a chair with his makeup smeared, his wig askew, and his skirt badly wrinkled. Somewhere, there is a man. He smells of antiseptic and of perfume. He smells of fear and anxiety, but also of hope._

Haruhi finds herself in a vast room filled with tables and tiled in pink. It looks to be a ballroom, but somehow she doubts that it is. The air there smells like Ouran Academy.

Before her stands a figure. He is tall and thin, with golden hair and ocean-blue eyes. He seems to be wearing the Ouran uniform, but instead of being blue, the jacket is white.

Haruhi tilts her head. "Where is this?"

The boy smiles, as though he were expecting this question. "This is the third music room. It's a place of judgment, a place of imprisonment, and a place of reward."

Haruhi doesn't know how to react to this. The boy is clearly off his rocker, or else she is. After all, she doesn't even remember where she got here. This is probably a dream. She hit her head, and was now probably having a peculiar dream. "Of... judgment?"

The boy nods excitedly. "I'm the one that occupies this room. I judge the souls of all the Ouran students that pass through here and determine whether they should be imprisoned..." He gestures to a row of urns on the far wall with strange runes on them... "or rewarded."

Haruhi makes a mental note to ask more about this bizarre fact later on. "And why am I here?"

The boy looks at her as though she is a complete idiot. "You really don't know? Well..." He rubs the back of his neck. "You see, you fell and hit your head. You were developing a fever even before that, so the trauma eventually..." He is too uncomfortable to finish.

"So am I in a coma?"

"No. Well, sort of. Depending on my verdict, you might wake up, or you might not. Your situation is a very delicate one, dear Haruhi."

Haruhi shakes her head. Nothing is processing. Nothing this boy is saying makes any sense. Eventually she finds the strength to say, "So how can I get a good verdict?"

"Well, let's face it: your soul is not a perfect one. I can't promise that your ultimate verdict is a good one, but certain arrangements can be made..." He takes a step toward Haruhi. "Certain deals can be made," he says, more quietly this time. Haruhi scrambles backwards, but is stopped by something solid. Her back hits it, but soon the barrier is gone. Haruhi hears a loud crash and turns around to see scattered shards of pottery... and a swirling red vortex. The blond boy is laughing now.

"Irregardless, it's out of my hands now! You have no idea how much you've just hurt your chances."

The red vortex condenses into five new figures.

 _Somewhere, there are six blue-clad boys in a waiting room. There is a blond one, a dark-haired one with glasses, a pair of redheads, one with the bearing of a gentle giant, and a childlike one that clings to him. They all wear the same thoughtful expression._

 _Not long ago, a man in women's clothing had burst in, demanding to see his daughter. This is how the boys had realized that Haruhi is not, in fact, a boy. Haruhi is simply a girl with cropped hair. After he is restrained by the nurse behind the front desk, he sits near the boys in a listless silence. Every now and then he murmurs something to the affect of, "First your mother... Please, not you. Not now." The six boys are left to wonder what he means._

The five figures are dressed similarly to the blond boy. There is a dark-haired one with glasses, a pair of redheads, one with the bearing of a gentle giant, and a childlike one that clings to him. None of them look very happy.

The dark-haired one with glasses steps forward to face the blond one. "I hope you have a good reason for waking us up this time, Tamaki. You can't summon us every time you want to play cards, you know."

Tamaki's face goes pale. "It wasn't me this time, I promise!" he points at Haruhi. "It was her! She knocked over the urn!"

Two eyes, locked behind glass lenses, focus themselves upon Haruhi's quaking figure, staring into her soul, it seems. "Haruhi Fujioka... It would seem you've met with a fate most unfortunate. Hmph."

Now, it is the twins' turn to step forward. Haruhi gawks. "Hikaru and Kaoru? From my class? What are you doing here?"

They only smile mischievously. "True, we are Hikaru..."

"And Kaoru," interjects the owner of said name.

Hikaru continues, walking in a circle around Haruhi. "It would seem that you've broken the sacred urn and unleashed the Five Souls. How unfortunate for you."

"We'll have to demand compensation," remarks Kaoru. "After all..."

Hikaru places a strong finger under her chin. "You do want a good verdict, don't you?" He whispers in her ear.

The little boy clinging to the taller boy looks thoughtful. "I suppose this can be your debt to pay."

Haruhi is now more confused than ever. "What the hell are you talking about? Who even _are_ you?"

Tamaki pulls her aside.

"All you need to know," he says through gritted teeth, "Is that you've just awoke five very... cruel spirits. They like to see innocents suffer and they'll stop at nothing to drive them deep into debt to do just that. It's advisable not to make them angry... because if you don't give them what you want..."

"They'll imprison me in an urn?"

"No. They'll imprison you on Earth, to watch your loved ones suffer and to watch the world grow older without you."

"And if I pay off their debt?"

"Then I'll judge you. If your verdict is good, then I'll give you a choice: return to life and live out your remaining years, or move on to your eternity. If your verdict is bad, then you'll be imprisoned in an urn and set on display as a warning for any other souls that pass through here. Any questions?"

"Yes. Um..." Haruhi doesn't quite know how to speak the question forming in her mind. "Am I really dead?"

Tamaki looks at the floor, hair falling into his eyes. "No, but you're nearing it. Once you agree to pay the debt of the Five Souls, then your body will die... but if you should, by any chance, get the opportunity to live again, then I can arrange that."

Haruhi's head is spinning. She turns back to the Five Souls, as they were apparently called. "Well then," She declares. "Shall we begin?"

 _Somewhere, there is a green spiking line on a monitor. Sometimes the line stops spiking and goes flat. Sometimes the line starts spiking again soon after, and the white-clad doctors and nurses staring at the monitor give a collective sigh of relief. However, the line has just gone flat again. Despite the best efforts of the doctors present, the line does not spike again._


	3. The Ouran Souls

Haruhi's debt, it seems, is very vague. First, she must glue together the Urn. Then... nothing. Since the Third Music Room is pretty much empty, except for a few shelves full of urns and a white satin curtain in the back of the room, there is nothing for her to do. She just waits in uncomfortable silence while the Five Souls confer and Tamaki stands to the side, eavesdropping. Soon, it is decided that she must sweep the floors and dust the urns until they shine. The Five Souls agree that this is a weak punishment, but it was the best that they could come up with.

Haruhi's father does not take the news very well. He tries to attack the doctor who tells him, actually, and it takes the combined efforts of Mori and the twins to restrain him. He shoves them off and crumples to the floor. At this point, the members of the Host Club begin to realize that they are in way over their heads. They offer their condolences to Mr. Fujioka and return to their respective homes.

Haruhi is not sure how long she has been dusting, sweeping, polishing, and sweating. It may have been fifteen minutes, or it may have been a week. She has noticed that time moves strangely in this place.

The Five Souls and Tamaki watch her with critical eyes as she toils, quick to point out any mistakes she has made. Haruhi is not happy about this, and she is about to say so when the great double doors at the front of the room creak open and a timid face peeks in. The rest of a yellow-clad body follows it, and Haruhi realizes that it is an Ouran student. She doesn't recognize her, but the girl sports a large pink bow atop her dark-blond head. She creeps across the tile floor, casting glances at the Five Souls, particularly the dark-haired one, every now and again. "Excuse me," she whispers to the floor. "but could you tell me... um... where is this?"

The dark-haired boy with the glasses shakes his head. "Not important." he snaps his fingers and a binder materializes in his hand. "Name?"

"Renge Houshakuji."

The boy's bespectacled eyes search the pages of the binder.

Renge suddenly blurts out, "I think I've seen you before. My father has a photograph of you."

Without looking up, the boy growls, "I am not the Kyoya Ootori from your world." at last, he finds the page he is looking for. "Renge Houshakuji. Drowned in the aftermath of a plane that crashed on the way from France to Japan. Heiress, avid otaku... hm. Tamaki?"

Tamaki is at Kyoya's side within seconds. "Yes?"

"Look at this and deliver your verdict."

Tamaki nods and accepts the binder that Kyoya hands to him. "Interesting... it would seem you spend a great deal of time... cosplaying."

Renge nods excitedly, oblivious to the fact that Tamaki had said cosplaying as though it were something profane.

"Overall, not an exceptional student. Not an exceptional person. Perhaps you would be better rewarded by confinement... in one of our beautiful urns."

Renge's eyes go wide, but before she has the opportunity to answer, the room trembles and a wind surges through it. The urns rattle dangerously on their shelves, and Renge is all but swept off of her feet and carried out of the room by the wind. The doors slam shut, leaving the room still and silent.

"I suppose," purrs Kyoya, "that it just wasn't her time yet."

A few floors above the room where one girl's life has ended and her father's is crumbling at his feet, someone else's eyes pop open as the monitor next to her begins to beep steadily once more. Her family, crowded around her bed, had flown to Japan as soon as they heard what had happened to her. They all give a collective sigh of relief when they see that Renge Houshakuji is alive once more.


	4. The White Curtain

Mere moments after Renge is called back to the world of the living, Kyoya decides what Haruhi's next action to repay her debt must be: She will write an account of the incident in excruciating detail. She does this without question. At this point, she is willing to do anything to improve her verdict. She imagines that her father isn't doing well since he found out.

 _Class is exactly the same. Hikaru is sickened at how little it has changed. Every student continues to focus on the lesson, unfazed by the empty desk that sits lonely in the back of the room. This desk will soon be occupied by a transfer student. For now, however, the only evidence that that desk was ever occupied is a single bouquet: six black roses._

 _Kaoru, however, doesn't even notice the other students. He doesn't notice the lesson. What sickens him most is that he hadn't noticed Haruhi, either._ Haruhi Fujioka _... he thinks._ Who were you? _He turns around to look at the roses laid upon her desk._ Who were you? _But the roses do not answer, and, as it goes without saying, neither does Haruhi._

Once the account is finished, critiqued, and rewritten a few times, the smaller boy that is always clinging to the taller boy's back demands that she bake a three-tiered cake. As soon as he has said this, a kitchenette materializes on one of the room's back wall, next to the white silk curtain. She has never made such a thing before, but figures it is worth a shot. As long as her fate still hangs in the balance, anything is worth a shot.

Once she has all three tiers in the oven, a violent fight breaks out among the Five Souls and Tamaki. It's difficult to make out what they are arguing about, but Haruhi is able to make out the words "Nekozawa," "Ruin", and "Tea". This gives Haruhi a golden opportunity: she pushes aside the curtain, just an inch or two, to see what lies behind it. She is disappointed to see that it is only a mirror. She brushes it with her fingernail, and notes that there is no space between her fingernail and its reflection. _It's a one-way mirror,_ she realizes. _I wonder what's on the other side?_

 _The day of the funeral arrives. Haruhi is laid in her casket, dressed pristinely in white. Although she would have despised it, she wears just a bit of makeup. The guest list consists of her father, a few of her father's coworkers, the Host Club, the two representatives of Haruhi's class, and Haruhi's teacher and counselor. There is, however, one person who showed up uninvited: a young man in a black cloak and a dark wig. He calls himself Umehito Nekozawa. A quiet intensity envelops the room as the incense is offered and the priest reads..._

 _Towards the end of the rites, Umehito gasps and stiffens. Kaoru, who is sitting next to him, asks if he's allright. He responds only with the faintest of mutterings. It sounded something like, "Someone touched my mirror."_

Tamaki takes notice of the fact that Haruhi has pulled back the white curtain. He breaks away from the fighting and screams, "You're not supposed to touch that!"

But the damage is already done. The mirror begins to fog over, as though reflecting snowfall.

 _Umehito's head falls back and his eyes... his eyes begin to fog over, turning entirely white. His mouth hangs open._

The mirror clears again, revealing the image of a young man with long blond hair. He looks similar to Tamaki, down to the strange white version of the Ouran uniform. He looks like a prince. He is on the wrong side of the mirror, though... it seems more like a window now. The boy presses his hand against the glass, and the glass yields like gel. His hand comes through to Haruhi's side of the mirror, followed by the rest of his body.

Soon enough, he stands before Haruhi, Tamaki, and the five souls. Kyoya looks livid. "You're not supposed to be here," he seethes. "Get back. Leave."

But the boy simply raises a finger, as though speaking to a child. "I don't think so! Not unless she comes with me," he croons, motioning towards Haruhi.

"She can't! She's still paying her debt!" Tamaki starts towards Haruhi, intending to grab her wrist. However, he is too late; the boy grabs Haruhi around the waist and pulls her back through the mirror. It clouds over again, then clears to show only the reflections of six shocked boys. The cake in the oven begins to burn.

 _Umehito's eyes clear up, much to Tamaki's relief. He relaxes and shakes his head. "Damn that urn," he mumbles. "I'd damn the Five Souls, but they've already done that to themselves."_

 _Tamaki raises an eyebrow. "Whaaat are you talking about?"_

 _"Nothing for you to be concerned with."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _"Not entirely, but there's no time to explain."_

 _His statement is punctuated by a high-pitched scream emitted by Haruhi's father. Bodies surge to the front of the room, where Haruhi lays. But she is not laying anymore; she is sitting up, eyes wide open, very confused._

 _Very alive._


	5. Salt, Wounds, Mirrors, and Other Pains

There is silence. Thick, dense silence broken only by Kyoya's lumbering footsteps as he paces back

and forth

and back

and forth

in front of that white-shrouded mirror. The other four of the Five Souls are irate. The twins have a violent fire in their eyes, the little boy shakes in anger, and the tall one's hand sometimes twitches itself into a fist, only to release itself. Tamaki cowers behind one of the room's many pillars.

All too soon, Kyoya stops and looks directly at the cowering prince. "My family," he croons, "Will _not_ be happy about this."

 _There is noise. Chaotic, confused noise pierced only by Ryoji Fujioka's shrill scream. He forces himself out of his seat... could this be true? Was his daughter... back? He makes his feet move forward_

 _left_

 _then right_

 _then left_

 _until he is in front of the white-shrouded girl. She does not look at him... her eyes are squeezed shut and her face is buried in her hands. She is sobbing._

 _Ryoji hesitantly places his hand on her shoulder. It is warm to the touch, and shaking. Haruhi stops sobbing once she feels Ryoji's touch, and her own hands drop. She looks into his eyes, seeing that her father's eyes are glistening with tears, just like her own._

 _All of Ryoji's fear, all of his loneliness, all of his grief over Haruhi and resurfaced grief over her mother, vanishes. He pulls Haruhi into his arms. "It's alright now. It's all okay."_

 _The rest of the guests begin to creep forward to get a better look at what is going on. All except one: the boy in the black hood and the dark wig. He stays in his seat with a pale, drawn face and twitching feet._

 _Haruhi manages to squeak out, "No. It's not."_

 _Hearing this, Ryoji slowly releases her and holds her at arm's length. "What do you mean?"_

 _Haruhi begins to breathe heavily. "They won't let me stay. He saved me... but I'm not done."_

 _"Haruhi, what's going o—"_

 _"I have to finish it!"_

 _There are murmurs of confusion amongst the small crowd now gathered around the casket. It is Tamaki who eventually figures it out. He marches back to Umehito. "You have something to do with this, don't you?"_

 _Umehito jumps. "Wh-whatever would give you that idea?"_

 _Tamaki bristles. "Because whenever strange... unnatural things happen, you're usually the one behind them."_

 _The boy only pulls his hood further over his face. "It was not my fault..." he murmurs. "She summoned me..."_

 _"Speak up."_

 _"It had nothing to do with me. I'm unfamiliar with the art of resurrection. Nor the art of hypnotism."_

 _"What?"_

 _"They do not exist." Umehito stares into Tamaki's eyes. "They do not exist."_

 _Tamaki's confused face goes slack and he mindlessly repeats, "They do not exist."_

 _"There you go. Now, go over there and see what's going on."_

 _Tamaki complies. As soon as he is far enough away from Umehito, he is relieved to find that his head is now clear. He forces his way to the front of the small crowd to see Haruhi climbing out of her casket with the aid of her father. Before he knows what he's doing, the name falls out of his mouth: "Haruhi."_

 _The owner of the name looks up, startled to hear that familiar voice. She tenses. "Why are you here?"_

 _Tamaki blushes and rubs the back of his neck. "Well... because of you, I guess?"_

 _"But shouldn't you be back in the third music room?"_

 _He shrugs. "We won't have any clients right now."_

 _Haruhi's eyes drift over to the bespectacled boy standing next to Tamaki, and flinches. "Oh, God, Not you, too."_

 _She notices the other four boys, looking immensely confused. "Are you taking me back?"_

 _"Back where?" Asks Kaoru._

 _"Back to the... wait. Are you two the real Hitachiin twins? The ones in my class?"_

 _Hikaru furrows his brow. "Well, who else would we be?"_

 _Haruhi points at the tall boy and the little one who clings to him. "Who are they?"_

 _Tamaki wipes the confused look off of his face and introduces the tall one as Takeshi "Mori" Morinozuka, and the short one as Mitsukuni "Honey" Haninozuka. Honey trots up to Haruhi with the intent of giving her a hug, but at that moment, here eyes begin to fog over. Tamaki notes that this is exactly what happened with Umehito before._

 _She collapses onto the floor, and her flesh is, once again, just as cold as it was ten minutes ago._

Tamaki swings the metal mixing bowl against the mirror one last time, and the mirror finally shatters into dust... dust that forms the shape of a human. It eventually condenses to form Haruhi, standing there in her glasses and sweater. Her face is no longer one of submission; she glares at Tamaki, who bears the cake-batter stained mixing bowl. She glares at Kyoya, skimming through something written in his binder. She glares at Honey, who hides behind Mori. She glares at Mori, then the twins, then the mirror... but there is no mirror. Instead, there is only a white curtain, drawn aside to reveal a blank wall.

It is Kyoya that finally breaks that hateful silence. "There is work to be done, Haruhi."


	6. Aftermath

Kyoya pushes up his glinting glasses, showing Haruhi her own distorted reflection. The other four souls and Tamaki form a huddle behind him as he begins a slow, self-important speech.

"As I'm sure you already know, Haruhi, this room is inten—"

He is cut off by the double doors in the front of the room. One of them has been pushed open, and another head pokes in. This one belongs to a young man with red hair, but with so much bleach in it that it might be pink. Rather than wearing the whitewashed Ouran uniform that seems so popular here, he is dressed in a traditional black high school uniform. He addresses the company as a whole:

"Um... h-hello."

Kyoya rolls his eyes and strolls up to the newly deceased soul. "Name?"

"I'm sorry, but... I can't seem to remember."

Kyoya nods, and the black binder materializes in his hands. He flips through it, every now and then glancing at the newcomer. He turns page after page, glaring at every student profile he sees, because none of the profiles belong to the person standing before him. He flips the binder closed and it disappears. "You were an Ouran student, yes?"

The young man shakes his head. "The name isn't familiar."

Kyoya tilts his head. "Amnesia?"

"It would seem that way. I'm sorry."

Kyoya does not respond; instead, he snaps and a small remote materializes in his hand. There is only one button. He points it at the student and presses said button, and in a flash of light, he is gone.

Haruhi is shocked. "Where'd you send him?"

Kyoya shoots her a glare, but answers, "Every once in a while, somebody wanders in here with amnesia, or they dropped out of high school, or they're from a high school we've never heard of... so I've been told to send them to the Brigade."

"What's the Brigade?"

Kyoya begins to look uncomfortable. "To tell the truth, I'm not even sure myself. All I have is this." He holds out the remote to Haruhi, but it is turned upside down, revealing an emblem printed on the back: a coat of arms with three geometric-looking S's.

"Interesting." Kyoya tosses the remote into the air and it disappears.

Kyoya coughs. "So, as I was saying," he resumes, "as you know, this room is the go-between for Ouran souls. But there are other schools, and therefore...?"

He tilts his head toward Haruhi, waiting for her to finish his sentence. "Other rooms?" she murmurs.

"Correct. There are infinitely many 'other rooms' in this place, not unlike this one. All these rooms are scattered throughout this place... and the headmaster, the one who oversees all conduct here, is none other than my father."

"Your father." Haruhi is incredulous. "Your father runs all of the go-betweens..."

Kyoya, the other four Souls, and Tamaki give an affirming nod.

"And he's not particularly happy about the little stunt you and Nekozawa just pulled."

"But that wasn't my fault!"

Kyoya's mood takes a rapid turn and he all but barks, "You're the one who touched the mirror! You're the one who knocked over the urn. You're the one who released us! Yes, I am quite certain," Here, he grabbed Haruhi's chin in his slender, pale fingers, "That this is your fault."

Tamaki bristles silently off to the side. "You made her cry," he growls.

Kyoya nonchalantly turns his head to glance at him. "And will this be a problem?"

Tamaki stares at the floor. "No, sir."

The black-haired, bespectacled face stares into Haruhi's, noticing the crystalline tears that flow down her cheeks, spilling onto a pallid hand.

"Well then." The fingers release Haruhi, leaving a pale hand-shaped mark upon her face that slowly turns red. "The Judges that occupy these rooms hold a meeting, once a year. Tamaki is usually the only one from the Ouran go-between that attends, but since you so kindly released us from exile-"

Haruhi's stomach wrenches.

"We will accompany him. And my father wanted a special audience with you."

One last set of tears leaked from Haruhi's eyes. "When do we leave?"

 _A week has passed since the burial of Haruhi. Shortly after the episode at the funeral, the paramedics had been called, but as you can probably guess, they were too late. Haruhi was found stone-cold, without a pulse. Once this had been declared, everybody was ordered to go home, with only Ryoji Fujioka allowed to stay. The funeral rites had been completed, the body had been cremated, and the remains had been buried next to those of the girl's mother. After this fact, Ryoji walked home in a daze. He was too numb to comprehend the fact that Haruhi's room was empty next door to his, and that she would not be there, rushing off to school the next day. He felt nothing, and this was the only thing that had allowed him to sink into a peaceful, dreamless sleep._

 _The Host Club, however, had not been so lucky._

 _Tamaki did not sleep that night. He paced in his room, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, to vomit, to do anything, but he simply could not find the energy. Haruhi was a stranger to him, but the episode at the funeral had left him shattered; she had spoken to him. She had looked up at him, with the eyes that should have been dead, and spoke._

 _Kyoya had kept silent vigil next to his bedroom window. He stared out at the street lamps, trying to occupy his harrowed mind with thoughts of funds. This didn't work... all he saw was the prone body of Haruhi, whenever he closed his eyes. He had not slept that night, either._

 _Honey spent the night at Mori's house, on a futon next to Mori's bed. Mori pretended to sleep, but instead, listened to the quiet sobs of Honey as they faded into the depths of sleep._

 _Hikaru had forced himself to sleep. He knew that Kaoru would have worried if he stayed awake... but his sleep was plagued with visions..._

 _There are black roses scattered onto a desk directly behind Hikaru. He knows this, somehow, but he can't look. He is frozen in place. He sees, out of the corner of his eye, a girl in a white dress taking the seat. There is a rustling of black roses falling to the floor. Haruhi's voice fills the room: "Stand." The class stands. "Bow." Hikaru's shoulders are forced forward and he finds himself being forced to stare at his desk. "Sit down." Hikaru sits, but he finds himself in an altogether different room. A coffin sits in front of him, closed. He wants to open it. His hand stretches out to undo the latch, but an icy hand grips his wrist. "You don't want to do that."_

 _Hikaru turns to face Haruhi, dressed in white and looking stricken... and somehow deeply sad._

 _"But I have to," answers Hikaru. "I want to know who you are."_

 _Hikaru is back in the classroom, but it is empty. Haruhi's voice comes from the walls, from the floor, from the ceiling. "You want to know who I am? I am the one you never bothered to talk to. I am the one you never noticed. I am the one..." The scene goes back to the funeral. "The one who is not coming back." He shakes her hand off and forces the coffin open. Inside, there lays a skeleton... a skeleton wearing glasses and a sweater. This is Haruhi... He looks over his shoulder, but all he sees is ash, blowing away in an unseen breeze._

 _The classroom appears again. This time, Hikaru bears an armful of black roses. The roses begin to crumble as he looks at them, eventually disintegrating into black ash. Ash coats his school uniform, his hands, his face... It is moving. It blocks his eyes, his ears, his mouth... he coughs, but he cannot get enough oxygen to emit one last scream..._

 _"Hikaru."_

 _Kaoru had woken him up that night, saying that he had been crying out in his sleep. Screaming, even. Neither of them dared to brave any other horrors their dreams had in store for them, so they stayed awake._

 _It was a long week for the host club, but somehow they managed to survive it._

 _A week has passed since that night. Only now is the Host Club opening its doors to visitors once again._


	7. Pity the Living

_The music room is exactly the same as Tamaki remembers it: the walls, the curtains, the chairs, the doors. The girls, too. All is carrying on as if nothing happened at all... but it is the Host Club itself that has changed. They saw a ghost every time they looked at the doorway... they saw the unconscious girl, the phone call, the arrival of the paramedics. They saw something that was not their fault, but would still haunt them, for the rest of their lives._

 _"Tamaki?"_

 _The owner of the name jumps as his thoughts are shattered. He realizes that there is a fair-haired girl sitting across from him with a concerned look on her face. "Did you hear what I said?" Baffled, Tamaki shakes his head._

 _"I asked if you were feeling all right. You look pale. Have you been getting enough sleep?"_

 _Tamaki tenses. He's not quite sure how to answer this question, but decides that he may as well tell the truth. "No," he sighs._

 _"Is it about that girl? The one who had the funeral last week?"_

 _"Well..." he hesitates. The news of Haruhi's fleeting reanimation hasn't spread beyond the funeral guests. It would seem strange to let the story get out now. "Sort of."_

 _"Well, if there's anything you ever need, you know you can talk to me." She is blushing._

 _Tamaki forces a smile, but his heart just isn't in it. "Thank you for that... umm..."_

 _"Atsuko."_

 _"Right. Thank you for that, Atsuko."_

 _With that last sentiment, their appointment ends, and the patrons make their happy way out of the room, their minds cluttered with thoughts of their beloved Host Club._

It is Hikaru that answers Haruhi. "The meeting is in two days, but it's really more of a formal party than a meeting. There's food and music... the whole bit."

Haruhi feels her heart sink. "I can't dance, though. And I don't like wearing dresses."

Tamaki perks up. "If you can't dance, then I'll teach you."

Her heart only sinks deeper. "Oh, joy."

Two eyes squint at the girl from behind glasses. "If you want to make a good impression on my father, you'll have to come off as a lady rather than a... a..."

The words fail him as he surveys Haruhi's messy hair, disheveled collar, and ratty sweater. "Is 'commoner' the right word to use?"

The twins nod in agreement. "Haruhi is a commoner if ever I've seen one," offers Tamaki.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," growls Kyoya.

"Sorry... sorry. Right."

"Anyway, a dress will be prepared for you. I suggest you get used to the idea of wearing it."

Tamaki claps his hands, and "Waltz With Adonis" begins to play over unseen speakers. He takes Haruhi by the hand and by the waist, and leads her into a stumbling dance.

 _The double doors boom closed, leaving the Host Club in a silent room._

 _Tamaki sighs. "I really don't think I can keep doing this."_

 _"Is it about Haruhi?" Asks Honey, from atop Mori's shoulders._

 _"Well... yes and no."_

 _"Well, what else is bothering you?"_

 _Tamaki swallows and looks directly at Kyoya. "You remember Mr. Fujioka, don't you?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"He was the crossdresser, right?" asks Hikaru._

 _"Yes. And," Tamaki rubs the back of his neck. "I'd like to visit him."_

 _Kyoya's lips tighten. "Are you sure?"_

 _"Yes, I'm quite sure. I've never had the opportunity to ask him just what Haruhi was like, and I want to make sure he's doing well."_

 _"Tamaki, I really don't think this is a good—"_

 _"Nonsense. His address is probably somewhere in the student record, so we'll leave once you find it."_

 _The other boy sighs in defeat. "Understood."_

 _He skims through his binder, eventually landing on Haruhi's picture._

 _"I've found it."_

"Slow down, you're rushing the beat!"

"Well, it's not my fault that the tempo's all messed up! The bass line isn't even on the bea—"

"You missed the turn."

"How was I supposed to know you were about to turn me?"

The Five Souls look on with barely suppressed disgust as Haruhi and the Judge half-waltzed, half-bickered across the tiled floors. Honey murmurs what all of them are already thinking: "She's screwed."

 _When the Host Club arrives at the small apartment building that serves as home to Ryoji, they are... underwhelmed, to say the least. But the door to the apartment is unlocked, so that is a small blessing._

 _As the door opens, a groan is heard. Tamaki, the first person to step inside, frantically looks around to find the source of the noise, but then realizes that it is Ryoji himself, curled up on the living room rug with an empty beer bottle. His eyes slide open to see twelve boys standing over him, with unreadable expressions. He blinks again, and six of them are gone. Huh._

 _"Who the hell are you?"_

 _Tamaki winces, and Kyoya quietly hisses._

 _Kaoru offers, "We're from the funeral. We're the ones who called the ambulance... when..." He trails off when he sees Ryoji's narrow eyes staring at him. And Ryoji's awful appearance. He's wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweater, with smeared eyeliner and disheveled hair. It's obvious that he hasn't shaved in a while._

 _"So what do you want?"_

 _Tamaki winces. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay..."_

 _"I'm fine. I'm fine. Can't you see that? Get out."_

 _"W-well... we also wanted to ask you about your daughter. We didn't know her that well..."_

 _"Oh, really?" Ryoji pushes himself up into a sitting position. The rest of the Host Club sits as well._

 _Kyoya pushes up his glasses, searching for the right words. "Yes, Tamaki just wanted to know more about Haru—"_

 _"Don't say her name."_

 _Kyoya's black eyebrows furrow. "I'm... sorry?"_

 _"Nothing. Go on."_

 _"Right. These two," he points to the twins, "were in her class this term, but they didn't get the opportunity to talk to her. We were wondering if you might tell us more about your daughter."_

 _Ryoji's eyes widen. "You seriously came all this way just to ask about her?"_

 _It is Tamaki's turn to speak for himself. "Well, why not? What was she like?"_

 _The man with the long red hair sighs and lets his eyes fall closed. "She was the world to me..."_

 _Tamaki's hand finds his shoulder. "I really am sorry."_

 _But Ryoji slaps the hand away. "Spare me. Unless you brought beer with you, get out."_

 _"But you haven't told us anything about Haru—"_

 _"DON'T SAY HER NAME!" He stumbles to his feet and lurches towards Tamaki, hands stretched towards his neck._

 _Tamaki finally takes the hint and motions the Host Club out of the apartment. Once the rest of them are outside and Tamaki is out of Ryoji's reach, he gives a sad smile._

 _"Maybe you'll be in better spirits tomorrow."_

 _He shuts the door behind him, not waiting to hear whatever drunken response he had gotten._

 _"Let's go home."_

* * *

Note: "Waltz with Adonis" is a waltz from the original soundtrack of OHS Host Club.

Thank you for the lovely reviews!


	8. Of Ropes and Renge

_Kyoya can't help himself; his stoic side had ordered him coldly to go directly to school the next morning, but his compassionate side had begged him not to. And so it is that he finds himself back in front of this door, with his hand on the knob and his heart in his throat. He opens the door only to be hit in the face with the strong smell of alcohol and the sense that something is terribly wrong. The room is quiet... except for some mutterings from the next room over. Kyoya follows the noise, and on his way he notices a small envelope on a chest of drawers addressed "To whoever finds this."_

 _He doesn't try to process what that means. Instead, he walks into the neighboring room and promptly freezes. There is Mr. Fujioka, looking more at peace than Kyoya had ever seen him in the short time that he had known him. He was whispering Haruhi's name._

 _A chair was under his feet_

 _And a rope was tied around his neck._

 _"Fujioka!"_

 _The man only offers him half a glance and a single word: "Don't." He then steps off the chair and..._

 _Kyoya gasps. This is not really happening. This is not really happening. No._

 _He rushes to the kitchen in search of something, of anything. He opens cupboards and drawers until he finally finds precisely what he is looking for: A serrated kitchen knife. With deft hands, he hacks into the taut rope and begins to saw until it gives way, and Ryoji collapses to the floor. Kyoya is relieved to see that he is breathing, and conscious._

 _"You know..." The man begins. The student tenses, wondering what kind of a verbal beating he is about to sit through. "There's a picture of... of Haruhi on the bureau over there." Ryoji points weakly over to the same bureau that had the envelope on it. "I want you to take it... for now. I can't bear to look at it anymore."_

 _Kyoya nods. "Are you going to be alright if I leave?"_

 _A cough. "I think so."_

 _On his way out, both the framed photograph and the envelope are snatched up. Ryoji does not notice._

Haruhi is made to wear the girls' Ouran uniform. Or, at least, it would be the girls' Ouran uniform if it wasn't black. Since there are no longer any mirrors in the room, Haruhi supposes that she looks like some kind of a gothic lolita... but that's the least of her worries.

The Five Souls have congregated in the far corner of the room, and are discussing something with feverish worry. Kyoya seems the most worried of all. He casts frequent glances at Haruhi and the urns that line the room, and he wrings his hands. Sometimes he pushes up his glasses.

Honey clings to Mori, and the twins cling to each other. They don't look worried, per se, but they do look a bit sad.

Tamaki leans against a pillar, also in deep thought. This leaves Haruhi alone with her forcedly optimistic thoughts. Thoughts like, "Maybe Kyoya's father isn't that bad," or, "I wonder when I'll finally have this debt paid off," or, "Maybe my father's okay."

Tamaki interrupts the discussion of the Five Souls and the thoughts of Haruhi with that one phrase that they had been dreading: "It's time to go."

He threw open the double doors at the front of the room and, for the first time in days, Haruhi left the Third Music room, accompanied by the very people who had trapped her there.

 _"The day has finally come," thinks Hikaru. Yesterday, the teacher had announced the fact that, after a quick recovery from nearly drowning in a catastrophic plane crash, the transfer student would be arriving the next day. She would be claiming the desk that used to belong to Miss Fujioka._

 _So today, the twins slouch in their desks with a growing sense of dread. The roses had been cleared off of the desk, and any evidence of Haruhi had been cleared out of the classroom. The girl who will replace Haruhi makes her entrance. She surveys the room, then halts when her eyes land on the twins. Kaoru gives her a sad look, but her expression is anything but sad. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. Before she knows it, she is in front of the two desks._

 _"I don't understand. I saw you. What are you doing here?"_

 _Hikaru and Kaoru exchange confused glances. "Um... we go to school here," answers Hikaru._

 _"But I saw you. Before, a little over a week ago."_

 _Kaoru answers slowly and carefully. "We've never seen you before. I'm really sorry, miss."_

 _The transfer student is shocked. She mumbles something about, "Couldn't have been a dream. It couldn't."_

 _Before the twins can ask her to repeat herself, the teacher strolls into the room, and beckons the transfer student to the front of the room. She is asked to introduce herself._

 _"My name is Renge Houshakuji. I'm from Paris, France, and I'm pleased to meet all of you." She bows, and slinks to her—no, Haruhi's—seat._

 _As he watches the rest of the Host Club struggle to keep the smiles from sliding off their faces as they talk to their patrons, Kyoya is silently grateful that he has no obligations to act as a Host. He has not told any of the other hosts about what he witnessed this morning, and he doesn't plan to, but the scenario replays in his mind countless times. The chair, the rope, the knife, the photograph, and the note. The photograph now sits on a table near the double doors, as a memorial to the last place where Haruhi had been awake. In the middle of class, he had ventured to open the envelope, and the enclosed note read as follows:_

 _"Now that both my wife and daughter are gone, I no longer wish to live without them._

 _Without them, my life is nothing. Haruhi was the light of my life, and I have no purpose if she is not here with me._

 _Therefore, I'm going to be with her again. I want to be happy, and that's not possible here._

 _After all, isn't it about time that I saw Kotoko again, too?"_

 _Kyoya struggles to keep his composure as he thinks about it. The image of that man's face... it makes Kyoya's stomach churn. The end of the day cannot come soon enough..._

 _But it does, indeed, come. After Tamaki bids farewell to the last young lady and she closes the door behind her, the Host Club releases a collective sigh of relief. Another day of fake smiles and forced laughter is done, except for one small revelation on Kyoya's part._

 _"So I suppose I ought to tell you—"_

 _But he is cut off by the double doors swinging open again. Tamaki forces a grin. "Have you left something behind, miss?"_

 _But the girl who has just walked in shakes her head. She devours the room with her eyes... "Holy crap." She takes a few steps forward, taking in the walls, the ceiling, and then the six boys in the room. "Holy crap."_

 _"Hello, Miss Houshakuji," chirps Kaoru. "I'm sorry, but the club is closed for today."_

 _Renge shakes her head, brows furrowed. "I'm not here for the club. I'm here for..." Her eyes settle on Kyoya. "You."_

 _"I'm sorry, but are you talking to me?"_

 _She takes another step towards Kyoya. "But you're here... you're all here. How?"_

 _Kyoya throws a desparate glance to Tamaki, but Tamaki only offers a helpless shrug._

 _"I'm sorry, miss, but I don't think we've met before."_

 _"But we have! You're the one with the notebook that knew so much about me! And... you were all there, along with some brown-haired boy..." her eyes fall onto the photograph on the table. "You know, he looked a lot like that girl..." she picks up the frame. "How weird."_

 _A voice clears its throat and the entire company jumps, and turns around to see a very uncomfortable-looking boy, shrouded in black. He has been listening to the entire conversation._

 _"Excuse me, miss... Renge, was it?"_

 _The owner of the name nods._

 _"This may sound a bit strange, but..." Umehito Nekozawa shifts his weight nervously. "Have you... well, how should I say this? Um..."_

 _"Yes? Out with it!"_

 _"Fine. Have you had a brush with death recently?"_

* * *

Thank you for the great reviews! I think there's about 2 or 3 more chapters before I can wrap this puppy up.

Hooray for 500 views!


	9. The Boy in the Cloak

The hallway is just as Haruhi left it when she had first come to the go-between. It looks just like the Ouran hallway, but with that bizarre feeling that something is wrong. Haruhi is used to this, though; everything has been wrong for the past few days. Or weeks.

Tamaki and the Five Souls appear behind her, and the double doors slam shut. Without a word, Tamaki leads the group down the corridor, and into another corridor that Haruhi does not recognize. There are quite a bit of twists and turns, and after a few minutes, Haruhi is quite certain that these halls don't belong to Ouran Academy.

It is not long before the corridor lets out into an enormous courtyard filled with people. Interestingly enough, most of these people are dressed in school uniforms. Even more interestingly, though, is the fact that there is no color to any of these uniforms. They are all either white or black, much like Haruhi's and her party.

Most interesting of all, however, is the regal-looking man in a suit fast approaching the group. He looks livid. He marches up to Kyoya, reels his hand back, and slaps him across the face.

 _"Well, yes... I drowned. But I was revived. How did you know?"_

 _"Well, the world I think you're trying to describe is not unlike... well, it's difficult to explain."_

 _Renge does not look happy. "Try. I might not understand it, but at least try to explain it to me."_

 _Umehito flinches. "Alright! So... there is a place where, should a student die during their enrollment at Ouran, their souls would be sent to."_

 _"That's where I was?"_

 _"Correct. It's called the go-between. It's a place where souls are judged to see if they will be rewarded with afterlife, or punished with eternal imprisonment."_

 _"In an urn, right?"_

 _The boy in black looks shocked. "Why, yes. Wait... did the judge threaten to imprison you?"_

 _"Well... it's complicated."_

 _"You should be damned happy that you came back to life, then. That would have been an unfortunate fate..."_

 _"But what's the deal with the judge and all those other people looking like the Host Club?"_

 _Nekozawa shrugs. "The Judge himself takes on the form of whoever seems to be the most well-known student at the academy. That just happened to be Tamaki."_

 _"And the other five? Who were they?"_

 _"That brings me back to Haruhi." Hearing her name, Tamaki perks up._

 _"What about her? Is she okay? Have you seen her?"_

 _Renge stares at him. "Who's Haruhi?"_

 _Nekozawa shakes his head. "I haven't seen her since ... the funeral..."_

 _"I don't get it. Whose funeral? Who is Haruhi?"_

 _Tamaki gives her a mournful look. "Haruhi was... a student here. She was in your class—"_

 _"—She used to sit in your seat!" interjects Kaoru._

 _"And she was the girl in the photo that you were pointing at."_

 _"Oh..."_

 _Kyoya clears his throat. "Recently, she suffered a head trauma. She slipped into a coma... and she didn't wake up."_

 _"I'm so sorry..."_

 _Tamaki shakes his head. "Don't be. None of us new her particularly well. It's just... we were the last people to see her alive. We feel a sort of responsibility for it..."_

 _Renge nods in understanding. "So, Nekozawa... what were you saying about the other guys?"_

 _"Right. So, it would seem that Haruhi shattered one of the Ouran go-between's urns. In doing so, she released five souls that were imprisoned there because they were notorious for making people suffer. They aren't human souls, though."_

 _"Then what are they?"_

 _"They're demons. One of them has a father that carefully monitors all of the go-betweens of Japanese schools. He is the one who exiled them."_

 _"To be exiled by your own father... sounds rough."_

 _Tamaki tenses. "And Haruhi's been spending her time with these... demons?"_

 _Nekozawa smiles sadly. "It would seem so. They demanded that she pay a debt as soon as they were released, to make up for her awakening them."_

 _"W-what kind of a debt?"_

 _"I'm not quite sure. Based on what I've seen, it's nothing like the kinds of things they did before they were exiled. I don't think they're quite sure what to do with her..." he smirks. "but it seems they've taken a liking to her, based on how eager they were to have her back."_

 _The twins make a gagging motion._

 _"Umehito, is there a way for us to talk to her?"_

 _He shakes his head. "They broke my mirror. That's the only way I can communicate with the go-between."_

 _Tamaki's face falls._

 _"However, your timing is extremely lucky. Tonight, there's a meeting of Judges from all of the Japanese high school go-betweens. The Ouran Judge will be there, along with the Five Souls and Haruhi. As a mediator, I will also be attending."_

 _Tamaki grabs Umehito's shoulders. "So will you be able to talk to her? Can we come? Can we get her out of there?"_

 _Umehito carefully removes the clenched hands from his shoulders. "You'll be powerless to help. I'm sorry, Tamaki."_

 _"But I just wanted to talk to her again..."_

 _"To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure that will be allowed. However, I have a feeling that something crucial to Haruhi's fate will happen tonight, and that might give us the chance to help her. You can't stay here until then, but I promise I'll call you if I think you need to be here."_

 _"So you just want us to go home until then?"_

 _Umehito says nothing, but instead holds aside the black curtain at the back of the room and waves the Host Club and Renge into the adjoining room. Renge is disturbed to see that the room is mostly dark, with the exception of a few candles burning along the walls and an ornate white chalk circle drawn on the floor. "What is this place?"_

 _"It's the Black Magic club room."_

 _"Oh... of course it is." She's obviously not comforted by this._

 _Nekozawa reaches into a pocket in his cloak and pulls out an elaborately engraved hunting knife. The rest of the company backs away, but to their horror, he turns the knife on himself. He slits his palm and lets a few drops of blood fall onto the chalk circle, around which he begins to pace._

 _Without warning, he begins to chant:_

 _"Michi speculo  
ostenderet amicus  
aperire ostium  
sed non anima mea."_

 _He repeats this five times until there is a blinding flash of light. When the light fades, there is a single mirror lying flat on the floor. Nekozawa stands over it for a moment, contemplating it._

 _He turns to Renge and the Host Club. "Go home and get some rest for now. I'll summon you, if and when you are needed." as they hesitantly duck past the black curtain, he leaps feet-first onto the mirror, and the mirror gives way as though it were gelatinous._

Somewhere unknown, a tall, blonde boy in a white Ouran uniform materializes. He looks around with a sense of urgency, and suddenly, bounds towards a girl in a black dress.

* * *

Sorry for the late update! Life kinda got in the way… somebody dear to me is going away to college in three weeks, so my family and I have been spending lots of time together recently.

Also, Nekozawa's chant came from google translate, so it kinda got lost in translation. It was pretty much, "Show me the mirror that will take me to my friend, but do not take my soul."


	10. The Disappearance of Haruhi Fujioka

Kyoya recoils at the blow. "F-father…" He raises his head to face his aggressor. "Are you not glad to see your own son?"

The man sneers. "You are no son of mine.

"It's nice to see you, too. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know."

"Apparently, exile makes the mind grow weaker. Have you forgotten exactly what you've done?"

"It all blurred together after a while," says Hikaru, smirking.

"S-sir," begins Tamaki. "I don't think you've met Haruhi yet. She's—"

"Quiet." The man that Kyoya called "Father" stares at Haruhi with an unreadable expression. "She's your latest debtor, is she not? I'm scared to ask what you've let the Five Souls do to her."

"We haven't done anything like that!" protests Kaoru. "Just some odd jobs… and…" he trails off once he sees a young man with long blonde hair running towards the group assembled at full speed.

Kyoya bristles. "He just had to show up, didn't he…"

"He was invited, Kyoya, just as he has been every year. He has the right to be here."

Haruhi gasps the moment she recognizes him and breaks away from the group to meet him. "You!"

The boy doesn't react to her. Instead, the moment the two meet, he throws his arms around her.

"You're the one who tried to bring me back to life, aren't you?"

He reluctantly slackens his hold on her. "Yes," he murmurs.

"Well… thank you for that."

Kyoya clears his throat. "You have no business talking to her, Nekozawa."

Haruhi glares at him. "He can speak to me if he wants to me if he wants to."

Kyoya starts to say something, but he is brought to a halt by a hand on his shoulder. "I think it's time that we settled some things." Kyoya's father's face was serene, but his tone was cold. "First of all, I should introduce myself. Haruhi Fujioka, I am the Overseer of the Go-Betweens." He gestures towards Umehito. "This is Umehito Nekozawa, the mediator of the Ouran go-between."

The mediator nods in confirmation. "It's a pleasure to officially meet you."

Haruhi, dumbfounded, returns the sentiment. "How are things, back in…" she pauses, looking for the right words. "...the other world?"

Umehito shrugs. "The Host Club," his eyes sweep over Tamaki and the Five Souls, "The _real_ one, mind you, is looking for you."

Haruhi shakes her head. "That sounds ridiculous. They don't even know me."

"True enough, but they _did_ try to help you before you passed."

"Not that any of it matters now," purrs Kyoya. "She's dead, isn't she?"

Haruhi flinches at the word.

"She can't go back as long as she's in our debt."

The Overseer places his hand on Kyoya's shoulder. "I've been meaning to ask you about that. Just what _is_ her debt?"

The young man blinks. "She broke the urn, waking us up. I think the debt is whatever we say it is."

His father looks ready to slap him again. "That's for me to decide. I'm the one who put you there, aren't I?"

There is some grumbling among the Souls at this.

"I can just as easily put you back. It'd be easy."

"Please. If we're imprisoned, Haruhi comes with us. She's bound to us now."

Umehito's hand closes around Haruhi's. She doesn't notice.

In reply, the Overseer reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a flask. He fiddles with the lid, staring at Kyoya with an eyebrow raised. "If you release the girl, we can all talk like civilized people. If you don't release the girl, then you'll all be trapped. It's your choice, you lot."

The Five Souls exchange glances. Kyoya shakes his head subtly, and the rest seem to agree.

"Haruhi belongs to us, and there's nothing that'll change tha—"

"— I release Haruhi from her debt on behalf of the Five Souls." Kyoya, Hikaru, Kaoru, and Honey whirl around to stare at Mori. He has his usual blank expression, as though nothing had happened.

"Fantastic." The Overseer pockets his flask, only half-smiling. "Now we can get down to business. Tamaki?"

He snaps to attention. "Yes, sir?"

"You may deliver your verdict."

Nekozawa releases Haruhi's hand. "Wait, no! Not yet."

"Is there something wrong, Mediator?"

The mediator begins to shake. "No, it's not that, it's just…" he bites his lip. "It's been a pleasure, but I must be going." He mutters something that sounds like, "I should've seen this coming" before he vanishes without a trace.

" _I should've seen this coming," murmurs Kyoya. He had hung up the phone roughly five minutes ago, and the conversation still runs through his mind. Ryoji Fujioka is on the floor, and he is not breathing. There is no saving him this time. "I should've seen this coming."_

 _Light begins pulsing through the window, and the sound of sirens intensifies. Just as the door clicks open, though, the room disappears. Ryoji disappears, as do the sirens and the light. They are all replaced with black._

 _The darkness, however, is pierced by candles. Kyoya squints, and he can just make out the figure of a boy in a black cloak. "Nekozawa, is that you?"_

 _He hears a sigh. "Good, you're awake. It would seem the rest were asleep. Just step carefully."_

 _He nearly asks what that means when his gaze falls to the floor to see six unconscious bodies: those of his fellow club members, as well as Renge's. They are all sleeping peacefully. "Should we wake them up?"_

" _I suppose we'll have to, at some point. We'll need them for what I have planned."_

" _If you say so." Kyoya kneels next to Tamaki and gently pokes at his face._

" _Mm… Club's closed for today, princess…"_

" _I'm not your princess. That is, unless you want me to be."_

 _Tamaki opens his eyes sleepily. "That'd be nice."_

" _You've got to wake up now, alright?"_

" _I'll do whatever you say, princess."_

 _As Kyoya moves to wake the others, Tamaki wraps his arms around his ankle. "Don't leave me!"_

 _The twins begin to stir. "What's going on?"_

" _I don't think you want to know, Kaoru. Just get up. And wake up the others, will you?"_

 _Soon enough, the seven students collect themselves and stand before Nekozawa. "To tell the truth, I'm not even sure that this will work, but let me explain something: If we go through with this plan, it'll be like none of this ever happened. You'll forget that Haruhi ever died, that anything that happened in the past few days actually took place. Are you alright with that?"_

 _Tamaki shifts his weight nervously. "Would it still bring Haruhi back?"_

" _If it goes according to plan, yes. If it doesn't go according to plan… well, there's really nothing to lose."_

 _Renge's voice pierces the silence that Nekozawa leaves in his wake. "Then I think we should go through with it. Things can't possibly be worse than they are now… right?" She slowly realized her mistake and crouched to knock on the wooden floor._

" _Very well." Nekozawa motioned the others to stand in front of the mirror, which was still there from earlier in the evening. "For now, all we need to do is wait."_

Kyoya hands Tamaki the black binder that contains the profiles of the Ouran student body, and without much effort, he flips to her page.

"Relatively new to the academy… not particularly well-off… hm."

"Gryffindor!" mutters Hikaru, earning a glare from Kyoya. "What?"

Tamaki cuts Kyoya off before he can make any kind of snarky remark. "She shall have the choice of her fate."

The Overseer grins smugly. "So be it."

"Wait."

"Is there something the matter, Kyoya?"

"It's nothing important, but there's just a small matter of business before Haruhi leaves."

"Well, get on with it."

The Soul takes a deep breath, turning to Haruhi. "Wherever you end up, I think you ought to have this."

He hands her his notebook. "It's a record of everything that's happened. I figured you may as well have it."

Before Haruhi has a chance to protest or question, the courtyard disappeared. Kyoya disappeared, as did the rest of the Souls, Tamaki, and the Overseer. They were all replaced with white.

Haruhi finds herself alone in a long white room, with a mirror on either end. She takes a small step towards one end, and her footsteps echo softly. Tamaki's voice fills the room, making her jump: "Choose one. There's no need to be scared of anything."

Haruhi nods, and the voice is silenced. She closes the distance between herself and the mirror she faces, and is nearly sick.

In the mirror, she sees not herself, but her father. He's being zipped into a bag… she can't see his face anymore. _Why…_

"Should you choose to live, this is what awaits you." There is no sympathy in Tamaki's voice. It's strangely monotonous. She turns away; it's too much to take in. She nearly runs to the other mirror, in hopes that it will hold something nicer. After all, _anything_ would be better than what she has just seen. She is not disappointed by the figure that stands within the mirror.

"...Mom?"

Kotoko smiles. "I've missed you, Haruhi."

The girl reaches up to stroke the mirror. Her fingers sink into it as though it is nothing. "I've missed you, too…"

"Should you choose to pass to the afterlife, this is what awaits you."

"Then I think I've made my choice."

"It's been a pleasure to know you, Haruhi."

"Same to—"

"—Haruhi!" The voice is familiar, but it is muffled, as though it is shouting through a window. A third mirror has appeared on the long wall between the other two.

"Nekozawa?" She reluctantly abandons the mirror that her mother stands behind and makes her way to the new one. A cloaked boy stands behind it, accompanied by what can only be the real host club. Also… "Renge?"

The girl beams. "You remember me!"

Haruhi doesn't bother to respond. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to offer a third option," declares the boy in the cloak, with Nekozawa's voice.

"But I already made my choice."

"Look, just hear me out. If you pass through this mirror, it'll be as though you never died. Your father would still be there, the five souls never would have been released… what do you say?"

She glances back at her mother. "I don't know…"

"Please say that you will."

Kotoko nods, ever so softly. "It's alright," she seems to say. Haruhi knows that it will be. They'll meet again someday, but that doesn't mean that it has to be now. She turns back to the third mirror. "I'll do it."

She takes a step towards the mirror, but a sudden bit of commotion behind the mirror stops her. Kyoya stands before her now. "If you could give this to me, once you arrive…" he holds out a black journal, just like the one that his demon counterpart had given Haruhi moments before, The journal passes through to Haruhi's side of the mirror. "It's a record of everything that's happened. I'll be interested to know about it."

Haruhi tucks it under her arm, nodding. "I'll see what I can do."

"Also," adds Renge, "If you find me…" she quickly unties a ribbon from her hair. "Nekozawa told me that it would help me remember. If you could give this to me, as well, I'd be grateful."

Haruhi ties the ribbon around the two notebooks. "No problem. Is that all?"

The eight people behind the mirror exchange glances. "I think that's all," Nekozawa murmurs. "I'll see you on the other side."

Haruhi smirks. "Literally." Without a second thought, she steps through the mirror.

The hall is dizzyingly long and wide. Or perhaps it is only long and wide, but the dizziness was already there. After the ordeal with the Five Souls, Haruhi has quite forgotten how dizzy she was that day… well, _is._ She feels awful. It's like a pair of hands are squeezing her head. There's not much time before she loses consciousness, she notes, so she may as well make it count. The door to the third music room is within reach. She lurches toward it and grips the handle as a sort of anchor to keep her from collapsing. She pulls with the last of her remaining strength until, at last, it gives, knocking her onto her hindside. She can tell that she's beginning to black out, but she fights it. Soon enough, six heads come into view. "Fujioka?"

There is no mistaking it: that is the voice of Hikaru Hitachiin. She nearly laughs. "You probably don't remember any of it, do you?"

Kaoru furrows his brow. "What are you talking about?"

But Haruhi hasn't the strength to answer. Her world is safe, so she doesn't need to worry anymore. As the Host Club stares at her in confusion, her eyes roll back and she passes out.

* * *

A/N: Sometimes this feels more like a script than a story. *sigh* Oh, well… At least I've got it typed out now. It's a hot mess, though.

Apologies,

Lagoon


	11. Epilogue: We End at the Beginning

Haruhi blinks lazily up at the fluorescent lights above her. She glances around to find herself in a white room that, at first glance, reminds her of the white room she was just in. However, the sleep eventually fades from her mind and she can see that it is, in fact, a hospital room. She tries to sit up, but the pounding ache in her head stops her. She finds herself imprisoned in that white hospital bed, with the buzzing of the lights overhead as her only company, and the only proof that she is still conscious, and still alive. She can't help but smile, though: She really _is_ alive, thanks to the Host Club's timely reaction. She promises herself, with thoughts like cotton, that she will find them once she is well enough to go back to the school. In the meantime, sleep pulls at her again. She finds herself slipping back into the world of dreams.

 _Tamaki sits at a wide desk before Haruhi, in a high-backed swivel chair. He wears the white uniform that she has become so well-acquainted with, and his hands are folded on the desktop. He smiles pleasantly at Haruhi, who stands, frozen, before him._

" _I see you're doing well."_

 _She takes a tentative step towards the desk. "Why are you here? I thought I was done with the go-between."_

" _And so you are, and we are done with you. The Five Souls are safely imprisoned once again, and everything is as it was before you came."_

" _Well, I gathered that much… but how do you know who I am? If we really did go back, then shouldn't I be a stranger to you?"_

" _You are… at least, to the Tamaki from the go-between, and the one from the world of the living."_

 _She furrows her brow, trying to make sense of that fact. "Are you saying there are three of you?"_

" _Oh, not at all. I'm saying that this isn't nearly as real as you think it is, Haruhi."_

" _So this is just a dream… and I'm making you up?"_

 _He nods. "That just about sums it up. You are fairly concussed, after all."_

" _Well, I guess that explanation is as good as any. I wish you'd go away, though."_

 _Tamaki seems hurt. "Why would you wish something like that?"_

 _She sighed, turning away. "I would have loved to meet you, if the circumstances were different. But as it is now, I really just want to forget. Is that alright?"_

" _I think I understand. As you wish, Haruhi… just try not to forget too much. You'll need some of those memories down the road."_

" _I…" She takes a step back, eager to leave. "I'll try, Tamaki." With these words, the desk disappears, as does the ethereal Tamaki. With any luck, he is gone for good._

"Haruhi."

Once again, she is blinded by the light of the hospital room, but it is assuaged by the shadow cast over her by Ryoji.

"Dad…" Her throat felt like sandpaper. "What happened…?" Of course she already knows the answer.

He chuckles. Haruhi has missed that sound. "You were hit in the face with a door, and apparently it concussed you, somehow."

"How long have I been out?"

"Oh, a day or two."

She nods. Two days is a long time, but it certainly beats the alternative. She tries not to think about it.

She is released from the hospital a day later, but is warned to take the time to rest rather than study. On her way out of the building, though, runs into a phantom: Renge Houshakuji. They make brief conversation about Ouran, and Haruhi learns that Renge is a transfer student. It is strange to pretend that she is a stranger, though. She considers giving Renge the ribbon here and now, but decides to wait for a more convenient time.

The days of rest drag by, but eventually Haruhi is deemed well enough to return to Ouran. When she arrives, however, Hikaru invites her to come to the third music room after school.

Although the first day passes slowly, she eventually makes her way back to the doors that had started it all. She pulls them open, and they give way easily.

She is surprised to see that there are no patrons today. Rather, the six members of the club stand waiting, with Renge standing somewhat off to the side.

Nobody says anything for a few moments. Haruhi blinks, and eventually she finds the articulation to say, "Thank you… for everything." She knows that they are not the same people who made this second chance possible, for they do not have the same memories, but they are the ones who helped her when she fell.

Mitsukuni's emotions overflow, as they are known to do, and he takes a running leap into Haruhi's arms. She catches him, struggling to stay upright.

The host club is closed this evening, according to Tamaki. He says that the club had wanted to give Haruhi a warm welcome, and that it had all been Nekozawa's idea.

"You might not have met him. He runs the Black Magic club, and he's… well…"

"Actually, I have met…" Tamaki's eyebrows shoot up. "Nevermind, the name's not as familiar as I thought it was."

What ensues, for Haruhi, is half an hour of listening to the Host Club's discussions. It is difficult to pretend as though they are strangers, though, and it is even more difficult to feel comfortable in this room. She remains quiet and stares at the floor while the discussions turn into petty arguments and jokes. She has never seen this side of the club before, she realizes. She has only ever seen him when her fate has been at stake.

One by one, the members take their leave, until only Kyoya and Renge are left. The room goes silent as they alternate between staring at Haruhi and glancing at each other, daring one another to speak first. Renge glares at him, and he sighs, turning to Haruhi.

"A few days ago, Nekozawa said that you'd have something to give Renge and I… that is, once you came back. I'm not sure why you'd have anything for her," he nodded in Renge's direction, "seeing as you wouldn't have met her before today, but who am I to question Nekozawa?"

Haruhi opens her bag and pulls out the ribbon and the two notebooks. "Well, he wasn't wrong… Renge, this one's for you." She holds the ribbon by its end and offers it to Renge, as though offering a cat a string to play with. The girl hesitantly reaches for it, but stops just short of it. "I already have this ribbon. How did you get it?"

Haruhi freezes, panicking for a moment, before she remembers what Nekozawa said would happen. "Just take it."

Renge snatches it out of her hand and gasps. She nearly collapses, but Kyoya catches her. "You were… I was… no…"

"Maybe we ought to sit down," suggests Kyoya. He helps the inarticulate Renge over to one of the couches and sits between her and Haruhi. "What else was there?"

Haruhi hands him the two journals. It is Kyoya's turn to hesitate this time. "How did you come by these?"

"Once you read them, it'll all make sense. Trust me."

"If you say so…"

He opens the first one, written by the demon from the go-between. He reads every word aloud, although the text only makes sense to Haruhi. He describes everything, from the arrival of Haruhi to the appearance of Nekozawa to the delivery of Haruhi's verdict. Once that journal is finished, he opens the other one.

The first entry is the one recorded shortly before Haruhi arrived at the third music room, describing finances and complaining about Tamaki's obnoxious attitude. It is all familiar to Kyoya, until he reads the account of Haruhi's unconsciousness. It is identical to the events he experienced, except for one small, very important detail: In the journal's events, Haruhi had not been breathing. Kyoya begins to sweat as the story unfolds in front of him: the hospital. The funeral. The reanimation and death. Haruhi bows her head as he reads about Ryoji's attempted suicide, and stifles a sob when he describes his finding out that Ryoji had, indeed, killed himself. He reads all the way through to the description of Nekozawa's plan to get Haruhi to stay, thus creating a world where none of this would have happened.

He closes the journal, and nobody says anything for a long time. They do not need to. Slowly, the black curtain is moved aside to reveal a boy in a cloak. He has heard everything, and underneath his hood, he is smiling.

The Go-Between is now a secret that belongs to everybody still remaining in that room. After all, everybody present has cheated death in some way or another. Death will come for them eventually, but it is better that they leave it alone for now.

 _Fin._

* * *

 **My English teacher tells me that I should never apologize or make excuses for my writing, but I can't help it: This is** _ **not**_ **the best piece I've ever written. I'll go back and fix it someday, maybe, but for now I'll just leave it here.**

 **Special thanks to the famously insomnious Dapper Dumpling, to whom I lost a bet, as well as all my awesome reviewers. It means a lot.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Lagoon. (I'm changing my name soon, so I'll have to go back and change all my author's notes, too)**


End file.
